


To Move Mountains

by oxiosa



Series: Brarg Week 2019 [6]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21623266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxiosa/pseuds/oxiosa
Summary: Luciano is an angel, lowest tier of his kind - the mortal world wouldn’t be able to host him without causing some sort of Apocalypse otherwise. He might not be nearly as powerful as seraphims or cherubims, but he has his own tricks under his sleeves. He is not allowed to directly interfere with human affairs, for that’s the rule They command from above; he is here only to balance the presence of demons casted out of Heaven and into Earth - of creatures like Martín.
Relationships: Argentina/Brazil (Hetalia)
Series: Brarg Week 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551520
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	To Move Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> The characters used in this work belong to the community Latin Hetalia and their respective creators. More info about them in the following link > www.latin-hetalia.livejournal.com
> 
> Argentina: Martín.  
> Brazil: Luciano.

Martín senses him the moment he steps inside the nightclub.

He looks around, searches between a sea of drunk dancing people. Music blasts, deafeningly loud, and lights blink in all colors in the dark room as Martín slowly and patiently makes his way through the crowd.

He heads first to the bar, orders two drinks. He smiles, inviting, and flirts with the barman, a young handsome man with impressive tattooed arms and an easy smile.

“Keep the change,” Martín smirks as he pays with a crumbled parking ticket.

The barman takes it like it was made of gold, eyes wide with surprise. Martín has the talent of being specially persuasive, and it’s easy to deceive humans, to show them what they want to see.

He takes his drink, winks at the young awed barman, and leaves.

He ignores the reaching hands and flirty smiles as he makes his way through the crowd, and instead heads straight here he  _ knows _ he will find him. His instincts guide him to a calmer part of the nightclub. It’s darker, a little quieter, and the people here gather in couple too busy one with the other to mind the rest.

Martín spots him right away; Luciani have never known how to keep a low profile.

He is a little distracted, likely the reason he hasn’t sense Martín back yet. He is quite delightful sight, cornered against a wall while a man kisses him, slow and sweet. Martín goes to them, and when neither notice him, he clears his throat. He has to try again a little louder to finally get their attention. The man turns to scold at him, but before he can tell him to fuck off, Luciano pushes pass him.

“Martín!”

Delighted to see him, Luciano disentangles himself from the man, and jumps to Martín’s arms to give him a kiss. Martín sighs between his lips, wishes he wasn’t holding two drinks, aches to reach out and touch - it’s been so _ so long  _ since he last saw him. Luciano’s lips are gone sooner than Martín’d like, but Luciano had been in the middle of something before he interrupted.

“We’re done here, sorry,” Luciano announces to the affronted man staring at them with wide eyes.

Before the man can complain or start a fight, Luciano takes his hands,and shuts him with a gentle peck on his lips. Luciano lingers, but doesn’t press forward, and when he pulls away the man looks a little too flustered to remember why he was mad to begin with.

“The night is still young and you’re beautiful,” Luciano smiles up at him, honest and bright. “Go get someone else.”

The words seem to pacify his outraged ex-date, thought now he looks at Luciano with more desire than before. If anything, he watches Martín take Luciano away with the longing of a lion who has decided to spare a meal.

“We have to much to catch up to,” Luciano takes Martín’s hand and leads him outside.

They go to upstair to the nightclub’s terrace. It’s far quieter here, a perfect hiding spot to sit down and have a talk. Martín and Luciano stand side by side by the railing, their arms closely pressed together as they stare into the night.

It’s been almost three long decades since Martín’s last seen Luciano, and they do a lot of talking.

Luciano tell him he moved into town three years ago. He opened a flower shop, proudly announces he has the best gardenias in town. He lives a calm quiet life, feeds stray dogs and volunteers in a shelter, does pottery on tuesdays and knitting on thursdays.

“You know me, same as always,” Luciano shrugs nonchalantly. “The usual, helped an old lady cross the street, cured an undetected early stage cancer...”

“Thought you weren’t allow to perform miracles.”

Luciano is an angel, lowest tier of his kind - the mortal world wouldn’t be able to host him without causing some sort of Apocalypse otherwise. He might not be nearly as powerful as seraphims or cherubims, but he has his own tricks under his sleeves. He is not allowed to directly interfere with human affairs, for that’s the rule They command from above; he is here only to balance the presence of demons casted out of Heaven and into Earth - of creatures like Martín, who do not obey Their higher power and are free to do as they please among humankind.

Luciano shrugs, gives Martín a little smug smirk.

“Well, early stage cancer is curable, so technically it wasn’t a miracle,” he says shamelessly.

Martín snorts, and can’t help the smirk curving his lips. Now, that’s his Luciano. Always bending the rules and playing by his own standards.

“So you celebrate in a house of sin and vices?” he asks, beyond amused.

“Look, I believe you can be good  _ and _ have a good time,” Luciano says. “Not mutually exclusive.”

Martín smirks. He knows of Luciano’s unpopular ideas, and will never cease to be charmed by them. Luciano likes to indulge in food, drink, parties and company. Pleasure is no sin to him; in his eyes, it’s a celebration of oneself and therefore a celebration of Their creation. Luciano has always been a little of a rebellious angel with his own ideas of what’s wrong and right, and Martín wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How about you?” Luciano asks. “What have you been up to?”

Martín’s smile is a little tense, so he gives his drink a sip.

“Didn’t see me in the news?”

Luciano rolls his eyes in annoyance and shakes his head.

“You give yourself way too much credit, you know?” he says unimpressed.

Martín is a demon, and strangely enough a rather powerful one. Luciano mistakenly and  _ stubbornly  _ underestimates him - which might be for the best, Martín isn’t sure Luciano would be so fond of him otherwise.

“How long have you been in town?” Luciano asks. “Where are you staying?”

Martín has arrived to town two days ago, and has been living in his car since then. Luciano frowns and purses his lips when Martín admits so.

“You can stay at my place ‘til you’re settle in,” he offers, and smiles in a pleased suggestive way that makes Martín laugh.

“How kind of you,” he snorts.

“I live to serve,” Luciano teases.

They share smiles, and then Luciano’s falters. He spaces out a little, his dark eyes a little unfocused before he blinks back to reality. He looks up at Martín, gives him a mirthless smile.

“Speaking of service, mind if I take care of a little business for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Martín replies, and can feel his smile growing wicked.

It is hard to explain how they reach the front of the nightclub. It only takes them the will to be there for it to happen, and it’s like they had been outside the building all along, standing in the dark street as they hear the music blasting inside and people screaming and laughing as they wait in line to get in.

Without a word, Luciano guides Martín to a narrow side alley. They find an unconscious young man being dragged by three other men, drunk and chuckling to themselves.

“Excuse me,” Luciano calls, way too casually for what’s going on. “Where are you taking that young man?”

The men turn around a little spooked, but settle at the sight of Martín and Luciano. Martín knows they don’t make a threatening picture -  _ yet _ .

“Fuck off,” one man growl at them. “This is none of your business, asshole.”

Luciano smiles, and it is not pleasing at all.

“Let him go, and I won’t make it my business,” he answers way too cheerful for someone throwing a threat.

The men exchange looks. They drop the unconscious body to the dirty floor without any care for the man’s wellbeing. Far from persuaded, they stomp towards Luciano with the wholeheartedly intention to start a fight.

Martín is quicker, and far less patient. He strikes faster than light, sends one of the men flying towards the closest wall. The man lets out a choked cry, falls to the ground and doesn’t move again. The second man, Martín strikes mid punch. He takes the man’s wrist, breaks it like it was made of glass, and lifts him off his feet by closing a hand around his neck. He only drops him when he stops fighting.

One last third man stands, staring at them unafraid of what just happened, completely unsurprised by Martín’s inhuman strength and speed.

“You call yourself a demon, Martín?” the man gives him a sour annoyed look.

“Leave in one piece, Aran, before I change my mind,” Martín answers harshly.

The demon doesn’t back down. He stares right into Martín’s eyes challenging as a wide wild smirk spreads across his lips. It’s Luciano, who takes a step forward and stands beside Martín with an equally harsh look on his eyes that persuades Aran otherwise. The demon eyes them both, before relenting with a loud crude curse. He walks away, spits at their feet as he walks past them.

Martín has to hold back a snort when Aran trips on his way out, cursing again. He gives Luciano a look from the corner of his eye, catches his angelic smile; the very picture of innocence.

Luciano kneels besides the still victim, brings him back to consciousness with the help of a healing hand. As he helps him up quietly talking to him with a gentle smile, Martín stands by, crosses his arms over his chest and he watches the two men he struck down.

They had been lucky; if Luciano hadn’t been here, these two assaulters wouldn’t be making it out tonight with a broken hand and a headache.

“You can take all the credit on this one,” Martín comments casually once the young man is up and gone, safe for tonight. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

Luciano snorts.

“No, you don’t,” he replies. “I’m totally marking this as a point to my favour.”

Martín lets out a long suffering sigh, but guesses Luciano is right this time, considering he has not done as bad as he wishes he had.

“Fine,” he relents. “You score.”

They have an ongoing bet. Martín thinks Luciano will eventually fall; the kind of trust They demand it’s not something sustainable in the long term run. Luciano will eventually tire himself out. Luciano, on the other hand, has the ridiculous idea that there is too much light inside Martín for him to trail too far from Their path. Martín disagrees; Luciano’s faith in him is as absurd as his faith in Them.

It’s misplaced and pointless.

“There’s plenty of fallen angels,” Luciano says, almost as if he has read his mind. “You can be the first redeemed demon. Sounds cool, uh?”

Martín snorts without humour, and Luciano smiles back at him, too smug to mind Martín’s esceptism.

Luciano is light, so bright and warm. Martín has met thousands of angels before, and none had held a candle to Luciano. If Martín had to sum him up, he thinks it’d be  _ joy _ . Luciano doesn’t have the power to kill evil, but he has the power to ease pain and bring smiles even to the darkest of places. Has the power to mend broken spirits and wipe tears.

Martín had been like Luciano once. A celestial being, full of hope for humanity and faith in Them. That was until his-well, Martín doesn’t like to call it a  _ fall _ . It implies he didn’t choose to turn his back to Them and spit in Their face. He’s always being too rebellious to be part of a senseless Plan he isn’t even allowed to know about.

Martín has lost his faith in humankind a long time ago, but that doesn't mean he has stopped caring - his heart has grown hard on the outside, but remains tender at its core. Injustice and pain have always sat wrong by him. He tries to stay away from human affairs most of the time, but when he does intervene, he always seems to be the spark of a bomb that sets hell loose. His chaotic fighting spirit is contagious, spreads like a plague and takes root inside men and women’s hearts like a disease. 

A  _ criollo _ dying with a sword to his side as he fought for his people, a slave being beaten up and whipped to death for speaking up, a student shot by the police force in a protest for a better world, a wife stepping up to her abusive husband only to leave her children motherless.

He doesn't mean to cause pain, but everytime he dares to mingle with humans, he seems to bring the gift of death.

He’d think this is Their divine punishment, if he didn’t know They don’t care about Their creations at all.

“You’re still under the idea that every terrible thing that happens is your fault, uh?”

Martín doesn’t answer. He only glares at Luciano, who is staring back at him rather unimpressed.

“I know what you think, and you’re wrong,” Luciano defies. “You see yourself as destruction, but I see something else. I have seen you stand for what’s right for centuries, seen you speak up and fight against what’s wrong.”

“So what?” Martín grunts.

“Where you see destruction, I see the birth of something new. Better,” Luciano replies, tils his chin up inviting Martín to argue. “Change isn’t always pretty or easy, it sometimes takes a little pain to get to a better place. You may believe you inspire riot and chaos, but all I see is courage.”

Martín sighs, defeated. He’d want to believe Luciano’s words, but he knows he’s dealing with an overly optimistic angel. Of course Luciano of all creatures will try to find a bright side.

“Don’t wanna head back inside?” he asks instead, because he is done for tonight about this.

Luciano shakes his head. He takes Martín’s hand and pulls him close, cups his face to pull him down for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he says with a sweet fond smile. “I think I’d rather have you in my bed tonight.”

Luciano has always liked to indulge, and there has yet to come the day Martín is strong enough to refuse him.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: crap I almost for, credit goes to [this tumblr post](https://oxiosa.tumblr.com/post/189257195400/teaboot-teaboot-ive-been-watching-good-omens). I don't watch nor haven't read Good Omens, but that lovely post did inspire this fic. So kudos to it ♥
> 
> ☑ Brarg Week - Day 7; Angels & Demons.


End file.
